Under Janette's Protection
by Nicholas Lucien
Summary: Even when Janette is not near, her actions still protect Nick. I do not own these characters and is not intended to infringe upon any copyright owners. No profit is being made from this work.


_September 1962, Chicago, IL, USA_

Nick strolled down the sidewalk, letting the many individuals that were abroad flow past him. He was enjoying the early evening while also responding to the energy that came from being surrounded by so much humanity. Having spent the last year living in a forest isolated from the people in the small neighboring town in Colorado, this large city was a welcome contrast.

Without needing to look upwards at the street sign, Nick turned left. He still remembered the layout of the city and knew exactly where he was headed. Nick's right hand involuntarily clenched up and he thrust it into his jacket pocket. He still vividly recalled what had happened the last time he had been in Chicago. Nick stopped at the crosswalk and watched the cars pass in front of him. As he had seen happen so often, times changed, and no one was hunting for Communists with the same blind zeal as before. Nick unclenched his fingers and grasped the key in his pocket, which gave him something else to think about rather than his own troubled memories. He knew no one was hunting for him here, but the thoughts and unease still lingered.

Once it was safe to cross, Nick resumed walking. He was keen to quickly arrive, but also hesitant to be too early. He fiddled with the small metal key. Janette had arranged for him to get it when he had finally accepted her invitation to visit. Nick had to admit he missed her, and though LaCroix was with her, his desire to be with her overrode his desire to be away from their sire. He slowed down slightly; arriving at her home too soon would mean being encouraged to go hunting with them, and Nick had no intention of participating in that activity. He turned right, quickly sidestepped to not collide with a harried pedestrian, then continued his journey to Janette's place.

Nick stood outside the door, the key between his fingers, poised to insert it into the lock. He could sense no one was there, but he was ill at ease which confused him since that was what he had wanted. Yet still, he hesitated. Nick couldn't sense where they were nearby, but they often did that when hunting so as to not attract other vampires to their prey. He finally concluded his nervousness must be the fact that opening the door would mean returning not just to Janette, but to LaCroix as well. Nick sighed and pushed the key in and opened the door; even if he wanted to, it was no longer possible to return to his home in the woods – the mortals had become suspicious of what he was, and their zealous fires had burned away his temporary life and driven him away. Entering the home, Nick quickly locked the door behind him.

Looking around, Nick assessed the white and aqua-colored space. It had the clear markings of Janette's influence. Everything he saw had a practical use, and fit with the social status of the surrounding neighborhood. Walking into the kitchen area, Nick saw the appliances and utensils, necessary for a mortal's cooking needs, but of no use to their kind. He ran the fingers of one hand absentmindedly around the rim of a set of stacked jadeite mixing bowls. He smiled – Janette was always so careful to hide what they were and make them blend in.

Taking his fingers off the aqua-colored bowls, he rubbed them together; frowning, he felt the grit of the dust. That was not like Janette at all. Glancing around more carefully, he noted a thin layer of dust on all the flat surfaces. His senses became heightened, and he moved away from the middle of the room to a more strategically-advantageous position. Now he understood his feeling of unease and that he couldn't sense them at all – Janette and LaCroix had both left the city, and they do not move unless there was imminent danger. Nick listened intently for any sound of a heartbeat that would give away an intruder's position, while also feeling a spike of hurt that they made no attempt to contact and warn him not to come or tell him where they had gone off to. As he silently moved to check out another location, he pushed aside these turbulent emotions and thoughts; even if rushed, Janette always had an escape plan and would leave him some message. Nick finished confirming there wasn't anyone in the home, then quickly tried a few doors before finding her bedroom.

The room appeared undisturbed, except for the layer of dust. Nick glanced around until he found what he was looking for – the only piece of furniture with three stacked drawers. He moved towards the vanity desk. Ignoring the mirror and the bottles of perfumes and other personal items on the top, he kneeled down and pulled out the middle drawer completely. Having carefully upending the contents onto the floor first, Nick flipped the drawer over. There he found what he was looking for – a small folded note attached to the underside. Removing the paper, he quickly replaced all the contents and slid the drawer back on its track. Standing up, he unfolded Janette's message and read it.

Wasting no time, Nick went to the candle by Janette's bed and lit it with the match next to it. He ran his fingers slowly down the text Janette had written, then consigned the paper to the flame. He didn't think anyone would have been able to read it, written as it was in a combination of the various old languages they knew, but one always had to be careful. Once the note was gone and the flame blown out, Nick went to the door frame. At the bottom he made his mark; easily dismissed as a random scratch, should Janette return she would know the note was gone because he had read it then destroyed it.

Leaving the home and locking the door behind him, Nick couldn't shake the feeling of guilt over what had happened. When he had been accused of being a Communist and the investigation finding the blood in his refrigerator, Hunters had learned of it and descended upon the city. Janette had gotten him out safely, and after a few years it seemed it was once again safe for vampires to return to Chicago. But apparently not, and Hunters had learned where she and LaCroix were. Nick walked faster down the street, mentally going over the note again: Janette had arranged the departure, going in one direction while LaCroix was to kill one Hunter and lead the rest away from the city. He, Janette had indicated, was to take another route out with the transportation she had arranged and go to Greenwich Village in New York and wait for her. Nick stopped at the intersection, returned his attention to where he was and his surroundings. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't being pursued, Nick went left, headed towards the address and escape plans Janette had provided.

_May 1992 Toronto, ON, CAN _

Nick looked up at Janette. He had been sitting alone at a secluded table at the Raven for a while, wondering if she would come over. Considering everything recently, he would have understood if she hadn't. He leaned back in the chair while indicating the empty seat across from him. His lip twitched into a small smile when she gracefully sat down.

"I should be irritated at you, Nicolas."

He nodded in agreement. "I know."

"Years, and nothing from you."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you know what it felt like, sensing you so close, and yet you not wanting to see me?" Janette held up one gloved hand to silence him. "No pretty words, _s'il vous plaît_."

Nick leaned forward, spreading his hands outward. "I have no pretty words, _ma cherie_." He dropped his hands. "I should have called."

"Yes, or better yet, came to see me, even if it was only for a drink." Janette leaned over closer to Nicolas. "I worry about you. How can I protect you if you stay away?"

Nick rubbed his finger across his lips. He knew one way Janette showed her love was to help keep him safe from any foe that may come for him. "You protect me even when you are not close by. But I didn't come here to sit and," he glanced at the bar, "drink."

Janette leaned back. "Then why are you here at my club? Not another police problem?"

He shook his head slightly. "No. I came to take you out for the night. To talk and …."

She was going to press Nicolas for more when he trailed off, but decided not to. She stood and extended her hand to him. "Then let us go." Nicolas stood, took her hand, and together they walked out of the club. He guided her over to an old jade-colored car, and she smiled. "Oh, Nicolas. I had heard a rumor you were still driving this old thing."

Nick opened the passenger door and helped her in. "Why would I give this car up?"

Janette ran her hand across the shiny dash chrome while Nicolas entered the driver's side. "You never found anything better?"

He turned towards her. "It's a good, reliable car, with the most trunk space of any car from the last thirty-odd years. That trunk has protected me more times than I care to recall."

Janette smiled. "Then I had made a good choice for you."

Nick nodded. "You … won't be wanting the Caddy back … will you?" Nick seriously asked.

"No, Nicolas," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "It is comforting to know my car still protects you after all these years."


End file.
